Tales of Spirmaghia
by Silvana of Springland
Summary: A young girl, caught up in the destiny of her country, fights for freedom with the help of talking lions, flying unicorns and more...
1. Prologue

**Prologue: Nightfall**

Night was falling on the city of Lamasinia, nestled in the heart of the great Silverglade forest. Kilavill, the great river, whose source was in the mountains forming the southern border of Springland, flowed past the city on its race to the Ocean of Light, to the north.

King Shylo and Queen Marissa made their way through the palace overlooking the city towards the nursery, eager to spend time with their children after a long and busy day. Baby Silvana, who was barely two, and little Phillyan, who was three, squealed with joy when their parents walked in, and toddled over to them as fast as their little legs would carry them. Shylo and Marissa for the time being forgot about being royalty, and concentrated entirely on their children's delight over their new pets.

Indeed, Silvana had just been given a lion cub named Rahana, and Phillyan had received Gyran, a wolf cub. The pair were talking animals, destined to be the children's constant companions and bodyguards, as well as playmates. They had voluntarily accepted the position, considering it an honor, and were busy making friends with their new companions.

Marissa noticed that her husband was preoccupied, and wanting to know what the matter was without frightening the children, she shortened the playtime and sent them off to bed. She then followed Shylo out onto the balcony, where she found him staring intently towards the east.

"What is troubling you, dear husband?" she asked, laying her hand on his shoulder. "What do you see that could disturb you so?"

"I have had misgivings about the nature of Queen Olivia's intentions toward us for some time, and they have just been confirmed," he answered quietly. "Look over there, and tell me what you see," pointing to a gray line on the horizon that was advancing quickly, mirrored by a grayness in the sky.

"Snow," she whispered, crestfallen.

Shylo nodded. "The soldiers will be here before dawn."

"Why have we had no warning?"

"I do not know, and that worries me. Either there are traitors, or the sorceress is showing no mercy. Neither perspective is reassuring."

"Is there nothing we can do to stop them?" Marissa asked worriedly.

"No, my Queen. We have no army, and no time to warn anyone. If we hurry, we can get the children to safety, as well as the crown treasures. _They_ are what she wants."

Their faces set and grave, the King and Queen descended to the royal council room, and called for the two nurses, as well as the three chief Councilors. When they arrived, the doors to the room were shut, and the guards were sent away.

The nurses reappeared ten minutes later, and headed to the nursery, accompanied by the queen. They had stayed just long enough to learn of their orders, and left to execute them. Each was to wake the child entrusted to her care, dress it simply, and then set out towards a secret destination, where they would leave the child and cub. They were made to promise, on pain of death, to never breathe a word about the fact that they had nursed the royal children, or where they had taken them.

The King and Councilors remained closeted for another hour or so, taking measures to protect the people of Springland, as well as hide the royal treasures. It was decided that each Councilor would take one or two of these and hide them in his home, and in the event of his death, would entrust the secret to his oldest son, whose duty it would be to restore it to Princess Silvana when she came of age, or to King Shylo should he manage to return before then. King Shylo himself would hide the Scepter, Springland's greatest treasure, in a location known only to him.

When these things had been decided, Shylo went to the gatehouse, and ordered the guards to close the gates and keep them closed as long as was humanly possible. He then showed the Councilors into the treasure room, and entrusted them with the Two Crowns of Springland, the Royal Seals and the Calling Whistle, which had been kept because of its value, but never used. A common legend said that whoever blew that whistle in his hour of need would receive help from Spirgha-Maquía himself, but King Shylo didn't have time to waste heeding to superstition. He therefore took the case in which rested the Scepter, and holding it closely to himself, showed the Councilors out, warning them to use the utmost caution as they returned to their homes, and to flee the city if at all possible. The King then disappeared down a dark passageway.

In the meantime, Queen Marissa was not idle. After having tearfully kissed her children for what she feared would be the last time, she began preparing for a hasty flight, knowing she could expect no mercy from the hands of Olivia, the queen of Invernia, or her terrible warriors, the Harilions. She therefore assembled clothing, food, and other items that would be useful to her husband and herself.

She had nearly finished when she felt the palace shake beneath her. The soldiers were at the gates, trying to break them down! She hastily finished the last bag, then set out in search of her husband. She ran through each room, calling his name, clinging to the walls every time the battering ram hit the doors. Marissa finally found him near the kitchens, looking very dusty and tired.

"Quick!" she gasped. "I have bags in our room with everything we will need. We can escape–-"

Just then, there was a terrific crash, and the doors broke open. Soldiers poured through the opening and surrounded the King and Queen before they could take a step. The last thing either of them remembered was Queen Olivia leering into their faces, and then everything went black…


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: A Star…**

"Come on, Rahana!" the girl cried, running across the frozen stream. "Hurry, or I'm going to beat you again!"

"I wouldn't be so sure, Silvana," a voice replied, and with a giant leap, a full-grown lioness crossed the stream, landing on a young girl around fifteen years old.

The pair rolled on the ground, laughing and playing happily. Though physically much stronger than the girl, Rahana was holding herself in check, not wanting to hurt her friend. She was also concentrating on her surroundings, for these were dark times, and even in the sheltered clearings on the fringe of the Silverglade it was unwise to be too trusting.

"How nice it is to be allowed to run around, after all that time spent locked indoors!" Silvana exclaimed, throwing herself down on the ground.

"I must say it is a change for your mother to _insist _on having you out of the cottage_,"_ the lioness replied with a laugh, sitting down beside her companion.

"True," Silvana answered. "Usually she keeps telling me to come back inside, or to stay in the clearing, or some such nonsense. I suppose she decided I needed a break from all the preparations for my _Melanalia_. I've been getting ready for it since last month, and I still can't believe I'll soon be fifteen, and a _Melana_!"

"Actually," Rahana interjected lazily, "I think she's taking care of the last-minute details. The ceremony is this afternoon, after all."

"It is?"

Rahana raised her head quickly and stared at her companion in disbelief.

"Do you mean to tell me you had forgotten when your birthday is?"

"Why would it be so unusual?" Silvana demanded. "The days are so much alike, it is hard to keep count."

"Then count the passages of the moon! Surely you can notice the difference between a full moon and a dark one."

"Of course I can. I'm not _that_ stupid, I hope."

After a short pause, Rahana resumed:

"Have you seen the gown you'll be wearing?"

"Not yet. I hope it will be as pretty as the one Milena wore for hers. But then, I'm not sure how Mother could afford even one that nice. I do know I will treasure it as long as I live. "

"And well you should, especially now that the ceremony has been forbidden. Who do you know is coming?"

"Just the village weaver and old Saralinel, besides Aunt Violet and Uncle Rihan and the cousins. I _so_ wanted to invite Milena and Serena, because I know they would have come anyways, but Mother put her foot down, and said only them. I suppose she is ashamed to have the village folk see how shabby our cottage is, even though we do our best."

"That is the most logical explanation," Rahana answered quietly.

"But, please, no more about the ceremony, because I am afraid I will be a nervous wreck before it even starts," Silvana begged.

"Very well, then, shall we continue our race?"

Silvana was about to agree when a loud voice was heard calling her name.

"So much for that," she muttered to her companion. "I'm coming, Mother!" the girl then called.

She ran lightly, her feet leaping over the frosty ground, her long, honey colored hair flying behind her.

Silvana stopped before a small cottage just long enough to open the door, then leaped inside, waking up the rafters with her laughter.

"Here I am, Mother!"

The woman so addressed turned and smiled fondly at the young girl standing in front of her. How pretty she looked! She was tall and graceful, with a beautiful, fair complexion, highlighted by a few freckles on her cheeks. Her clear, blue-green eyes were always laughing and kind, and she carried herself with an air of quiet nobility, notwithstanding her lowly rank. _Strange how things she was never taught have a way of coming out naturally._ The woman thought. _How I wish I could keep this ray of sunlight with me always!_

Silvana had been watching her intently during this short pause, and had seen the shadow that gradually fell on the dear face.

"What troubles you, Mother?" she asked anxiously. "You look so sad."

The woman forced a smile, and said:

"Do not trouble yourself for me, dear child. I am just a little tired from all the work we've been doing. Which reminds me: you need to go change, because the guests will be arriving soon. I put the gown in your room already, so you don't have to go look for it."

Silvana kissed her mother on the cheek by way of thanks, then ran to the back of the cottage, climbing up the stairs to her attic room with Rahana at her heels.

She came running back down moments later, and threw her arms around her mother, almost speechless with surprise.

"Oh, Mother, thank you, thank you!" she cried. "I can't believe you got me a _silk _dress! It must have cost a fortune! Oh Mother, how did you afford such an expense?"

The woman patted her daughter fondly on the back, and said:

"Never you mind the expense. Go get changed, and don't you come down until I call you, remember!"

"I will."

And with that Silvana went back up to her room, to change into her gown, and await with great nervousness the official beginning of her adult life.

She soon heard the soft sounds of the Melana march, and glided into the front room accompanied by its ethereal strains.

Silvana gazed at the few, but familiar and beloved faces as in a daze, quite unaware of the picture she created. Her slim form was accentuated by her dress; a shiny, rich, leaf-patterned gown, whose spring-green color brought out the golden wildness of her hair. On her head was a simple wreath of purple star-flowers, matching the sash around her waist. Standing there in the traditional colors, she looked the very symbol of Springland, and a longing stirred in the hearts of those present to see their country free again.

The ceremony slipped by as a dream for Silvana, who hardly realized it was _her_ voice reciting the age-old rite.

_"A child I was, I am no longer_

_ This toy I loved, I need no longer_

_ Great Spirgha-Maquía, hear my cry_

_ And help me let my childhood die" _

As her clear voice faded, she smashed the puppet she held in her hands, symbolically signaling the end of her childhood.

Her parents came forward, holding a simple wooden box, in which rested the _melanal_. Silvana felt her pulse quicken in anticipation as her mother lifted the cover, and gasped when she saw the beautiful necklace revealed. It was made of pure silvergold, the rarest and most precious of Springlash metals, and resembled a twisted vine, with an embossed butterfly in the center.

Her face a strange mixture of pride and sadness, the older woman stepped forward, and as she pronounced the ageless rhyme:

"_The toy is broke, the child is gone_

_ This ring around your neck becomes_

_ The proof that you're a woman now_" she fastened the chain around Silvana's neck, and presented her to the witnesses as "Silvana, Melana."

Traditionally, the ceremony ended with a small feast after the _melanal_ was fastened. The guests, and Silvana herself, were therefore surprised when her father stepped forward with a letter in his hand and asked Silvana to read it aloud.

The girl felt a strange thrill run through her as she saw that the letter was sealed with the Royal Seal of Springland.

Opening the letter, she read it aloud, her face registering shock as what she was reading sank in:

_My dear daughter,_

_Forgive us for all these years of silence and deception, but they were necessary for your safety. Your 15th birthday is the occasion to let all hidden truths be told, so that you may step into adulthood knowing who you are._

_Silvana, Princess of Springland, I, King Shylo, charge you to free your queendom from the usurper on the throne, and either free your mother and I or avenge our deaths._

_To those who have heard these words, I charge you to guard this secret with your lives, until such a time as you can be rewarded for your faithfulness._

_Written in the hope that Springland may soon be free,_

_King Shylo_

A stunned silence fell across the room as Silvana finished reading. Though almost all who were present were shocked, everything suddenly seemed to make sense, and they knew that it was true: Silvana, the young girl they knew and loved so well, was in fact their princess and ruler, and their hope for the freedom they had been planning for so long.

Sensing her need for privacy, the guests soon left, swearing their loyalty and silence.

Silvana stood stock still long after they had gone, her shocked brain still trying to process the news. All she could think was that she had been betrayed by the very people she had counted on for stability. The whole foundation of her world had been torn from under her, and in its place was the swirling void.

The peasant woman she had so long considered as "Mother" tried to comfort her by putting an arm around the girl's shoulders, but she broke away with a strangled sob and ran out the door into the woods.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Rahana followed, wanting to give her friend privacy yet determined to see to her safety.

Silvana, blinded by the tears that by now were streaming down her face, ran straight to a small clearing and threw herself down on the ground, not caring that she was soaking her dress.

Rahana crouched down at the edge of the clearing, her predator's senses tuned to every movement of the forest. She soon heard a sound that sent chills up her spine, because she couldn't recognize it, nor could she place the strange, clear scent coming from the same direction. Rahana was about to attack the intruder when she was frozen by the sight in front of her: a milk-white unicorn, its crystal horn glinting in the waning sunlight, was slowly walking into the clearing.

The lioness instinctively knelt down, recognizing the authority of the legendary creature. Her respect turned to awe when she saw the many-hued wings flanking the unicorn's sides as she made her way to the still-sobbing princess.

"_A winged unicorn!_" Rahana wondered to herself. "_I haven't heard of any coming to Springland since the days of the great Frost war, and I thought _that_ was only a legend!"_

While the lioness was puzzling over this, the unicorn had bowed her head and was gently prodding the girl with her horn.

"Now then, little Princess of Spring," a pure, kind voice spoke. "Why are you crying so?"

* * *

A/N: R&R! Comments of all types are welcome (except flames), especially constructive criticism. 


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Awaken**

Leshalon was woken up by his mother pushing his arm and saying:

"Get up son, it is time."

Instantly, the lad was wide awake. He knew what that meant: today was the Princess' 15th birthday, and he was to go to the Council Tree, bearing with him the treasures his father had so carefully hidden 13 years ago, and setting into motion what could possibly lead to the greatest war Springland had ever known.

He dressed hurriedly in the pre-dawn frost, being careful to hide a sharp dagger in his belt. Taking up his quiver and bow, he went down to the kitchen, where his parents were waiting. Sevarilen wordlessly held out the pack she had prepared, and hugged her firstborn fiercely, knowing he might never return from this mission. She let go as her husband cleared his throat from his chair.

"I've had them put in the secret saddle-bag," he started, as he placed his useless hand on his son's arm. "Do not take them out until the Hermit asks you to, I've suffered too much to keep them safe for them to be taken now. Keep to side roads, and let the horse lead once you reach the forest. She knows the way."

As if to agree with this last statement, when he reached the stables a beautiful coal-black filly tossed her heard and nuzzled her young master.

"Yes, Nalia, I know," he laughed, "You want to run. Let's go, then."

He mounted quickly, himself eager to be on his way, and with one parting look at his home, he set off.

The boy rode quietly, staying as far away from main roads as possible, trying not to attract suspicion as he left the capital at an unusual hour.

Many times on his way through the sleeping city did he feel that someone was following him, but when he stopped to look, his trained eye could find no one. The feeling wouldn't go away, though, so when he reached the forest, he gave Nalia her head. Sure enough, he soon heard another horse behind him, though the rider was skilled enough to make little noise.

Wanting to see who the pursuer was, Leshalon turned his filly in a careful circle, ending face to face with the other rider, his bow notched and ready.

"Go home!" he hissed, when he saw who it was. "You have no business here, Natalana."

"I'm going with you!" the girl said defiantly.

"You can't. It's too dangerous, and Father would kill me if anything happened to you."

"I won't get hurt. You know I can fight just as well as you. And besides, it might be helpful to have a girl around when Sil–"

Here she was cut off by Leshalon's hand on her mouth.

"Don't say that name! You never know who might be listening. Wait, how did you know about her?" This last question was asked in an alarmed tone. His father had sworn that none but he and his mother knew of his mission.

"Oh, you learn a lot of things by paying attention," Natalana answered offhandedly. "For instance, I know that you put a frog in Lady Morlaina's coat hood before you left. Mother would be disappointed to learn that her firstborn son could stoop to playing such tricks."

"You wouldn't dare…"

"Take me with you, then," she asked sweetly. "I promise I'll be good."

"That's blackmail," her brother muttered good-naturedly, "but very well. You can come with me to the Council Tree, and we'll let the Hermit decide afterwards. Besides which, I couldn't let you go back alone, it would only attract suspicion."

As they set out, Natalana leaned over and whispered:

"About the frog, I added a snake for good measure" then spurred her horse to a canter, avoiding the good-natured punch her brother sent her way.

Leshalon soon caught up to her, and they slowed to a walk, not wanting to alert any possible spies.

Several hours and many hidden trails later, they reached a large clearing. In the center stood a beautiful, though leafless, oak tree, covered in snow, that seemed to shine in the noonday sun.

"The Council Tree," the pair breathed.

They started towards the tree, but had barely advanced a few paces when an arrow struck the ground in front of the horses' hooves. At the same time, a loud voice called:

"Who dares disturb the abode of the Hermit?"

"I am Leshalon," the boy answered proudly, "Son of Council, Servant of Queens."

These words, handed down from generation to generation, were the master password for the Council in times of war.

"And the girl?"

"She is my sister, also a daughter of Council."

"Very well," the voice said. "Dismount and walk to the Tree."

The young people obeyed, walking slowly through the snow. When they reached the tree, they expected to see some sort of tent. Instead, they found a rough "staircase" built around the tree, allowing access to a platform built in the branches. Tethering their mounts to one of the steps and removing the package they had been given, they climbed up, awed by their surroundings.

An old man was standing on the edge of the platform, his back turned to them.

"The others have reached the clearing," he murmured, as if speaking to himself. With a speed and agility belying his age, the Hermit took up a bow that was near him, and sent two arrows flying in quick succession. In the same loud voice Leshalon had heard, he called:

"Who dares enter the Hermit's Clearing?"

The two riders closest to the tree answered:

"We are Krylon and Krymon, Sons of Council and Servants of Queens."

The lone rider coming from the other side of the clearing said, almost at the same time:

"I am Shymonabeki, Son of Council, and Servant of Queens."

Having spoken the password, the three were told to approach the tree. Tying their horses with the first two, they climbed the steps and went over to where Leshalon and Natalana were sitting.

The Hermit stayed with his back turned to them for a moment, then turned around and observed the five young people.

"Welcome, young Councilors," he finally said. "You have all, except for this young lady here, who came of her own desire" here he winked at Natalana, who hid behind her brother and blushed, "been called and trained for this mission since childhood, and you know what we are about. You know that the sorceress Olivia is not the rightful Queen of this country, and that the true Princess, Silvana, is today a Melana, therefore able to take the throne. Our mission, in accordance to the final instructions King Shylo gave to his Councilors, your fathers and myself, is to find, protect and assist her in her struggle against Olivia. This will almost certainly mean great danger, so before we go on, I must know of you are prepared to give your lives for your future Queen"

The Hermit looked gravely at them, and they, without pause and almost as one answered "we are prepared."

"Good. Now, before we go on, we must eat." The young Councilors' faces brightened up considerably at this, and the older man smiled briefly before continuing:

"I'm sure your mothers prepared something for each of you, but you have no need of it at present. I have all that is necessary."

Going to one of the many pouches hanging from the branches, he drew forth a substantial meal of dried meat and cheese, as well as a sweet nectar-like beverage, the likes of which had never been tasted, even before the invasion.

The young people talked animatedly, having felt instant friendship. There was a general laugh when Rylon, Shymon's (for so he requested to be called) lion, who had been forgotten in the excitement, demanded loudly that "his esteemed and most beloved master ease the growling in his entrails without delay, or he would be forced to act unpleasantly." Seeing as the aforementioned master was too overcome with laughter to reply in a timely manner, the lion coolly climbed onto the platform and helped himself to Shymon's plate.

Leshalon, noticing that the Hermit had been staring at the horizon for several minutes, went over to him and asked what he was looking at.

Pointing to a group of dark birds hovering on the edge of the clearing, the older man answered with a hint of unease:

"Those crows have been circling in an unusual manner. I am afraid we have been spotted. It would be unwise to remain here."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Purpose**

Silvana jumped to her feet, startled, and stared at the creature in front of her.

"What-wh-who are you?" she stuttered, almost frozen with what felt like fear and yet wasn't.

The unicorn seemed to smile, and answered:

"I am Silverfleet, and I bring you a message from my master, the great Spirgha-Maquía, on the occasion of your _Melanalia._"

"Spirgha-Maquía?" Silvana echoed, shocked. "But I thought-I thought He..."

"Was just a legend, I know," Silverfleet finished. "But unicorns are also just legends, aren't they? Yet here I am."

Silvana's heart assured her he was right, so she dropped the issue, and instead asked:

"What message could your Master have for a simple peasant?"

"You are no more a peasant than I am a pack horse!" Silverfleet answered with a snort. "And even if you _were_ one, it would make no difference to Him."

"How can that be?" the young girl questioned, letting slide the reference to her status. "How can such an important person care about an insignificant girl living in the smallest village of the smallest country in Spirmaghia?"

The unicorn seemed taken aback by this query, and surprise was evident in his reply:

"Have you humans distorted history so much as to not make this obvious?"

"History? I had never even _heard_ of Spirgha-Maquía until I saw His name in the _Melanalia_ verses, and when I asked about it, I was told it was just an ancient superstition!"

"So it has come down to this," the unicorn murmured as to himself, his voice filled with some indefinable sadness. "They have forgotten. Having fled Him so long, they have erased His very existence from their memories. It is high time I returned."

Silvana was obviously confused, and would have spoken, but Silverfleet had called Rahana over and was speaking to her.

"Tell me, noble Guardian of Queens, have you any knowledge of Spirgha-Maquía?"

The lioness spoke slowly from her seat at her mistress' feet, trying to bring back the few memories she had of life in her pride.

"I know the name, and I seem to remember my mother telling me a legend about Him, concerning a war with Invernia. She called it the great Frost War, I think, though I can't remember the story. Why do you ask about a legend?"

"Because I wanted to know if the beasts had a better memory than the humans concerning something that, incidentally, is not a legend. Spirgha-Maquía exists, and the Frost War did happen. It is not necessary for you to hear the story now, there will be time enough later. For the moment, it is enough for you to know that it is true, and that the Great One has always desired to be close to the Spirmaghians. Time is passing, and I must fulfill my mission. Will you hear my Master's message?"

Here he looked at the princess, who nodded slowly, her face registering her bewilderment. Having received confirmation, the unicorn began to speak, reciting the message.

"Young Princess, painful though this day's revelations have been, they are a gateway of promise. I want you to know that your future will affect the whole planet. I have chosen you to be my agent for accomplishing wondrous things, but you are free to refuse. If you do so, the torment of your people will rise to a greater pitch, and the suffering of all peoples reach new depths, but I will rescue them by actions beyond compare."

A thrill ran down Silvana's spine as the voice began to change. No longer was the unicorn speaking, it was a voice filled with golden strength and beauty, a voice powerful as a waterfall, yet gentle as a whisper. Echoing with depths unimaginable, the Great One, Spirgha-Maquía Himself, was speaking, and He was in the clearing.

The three turned simultaneously towards Him, and at her first glance at His face, Silvana sank to her knees in reverence. Her fears and doubts were swept away by one look at the love radiating from the Person in front of her. One word only passed her lips, seemingly without her will.

"Master."

A great smile crossed the face of the One standing near her, and, placing a gentle hand on her head, He answered softly:

"Daughter."

Turning towards the animals, who were both kneeling, Spirgha-Maquía dismissed them with a smile and a nod.

No one ever found out what was said during this conversation, for Silvana never mentioned it. She came out of the clearing alone, the trace of tears on her face, but a new firmness and authority present in her expression and carriage.

Turning to Silverfleet, the Princess spoke.

"The Master says you are to accompany me on my quest. Since night is falling, we will leave tomorrow. Will you come to the cottage?"

"I am grateful for the offer, but I must not show myself in the open yet. Olivia has spies almost everywhere, and she would not take kindly to the knowledge that one of my kind is about. Besides, I do not wish to frighten your foster-parents."

"That is wise. Shall we meet here? I would like to leave before dawn, it is safer."

With a nod, the unicorn disappeared into the trees, and Silvana raced Rahana back to the cottage for the last time. She seemed to leave her worries behind her as she ran, and it was a calm, smiling Melana who walked in the door.

Seeking out the two who had brought her up, she apologized for the way she had acted, and bade them farewell, as she was leaving in the morning and did not know when or if she would return. To their enquiries as to where she was going, she gave no answer, not wanting to put them in danger. Added to which, she herself did not know exactly where she was going.

Once in her room, Silvana started preparing what she would need for the morrow. From behind a small panel in the wall she drew out her bow and quiver, as well as the hunter's jacket and breeches she had made the year before when she had wanted to learn archery. In their place, she concealed her _Melana_ gown, not wanting to damage it on the journey. At the bottom of her quiver she placed the letter from her father, knowing that it was dangerous to leave it behind.

Telling Rahana to wake her two hours before sunrise, Silvana then lay down to sleep. She knew that it would likely be a long time before she slept in a bed again. But as she lay down, all her worries and fears assailed her afresh. _What am I getting myself into? How on earth am I supposed to defeat Olivia, much less rule a country? The Master said there would be helpers, but how will I recognize them? How will I tell the difference between friend and enemy?_

Finally, exasperated, Silvana tried to make herself think of something else. Her experience in the clearing came to mind, and as she remembered the loving, tender words of the Great One, a gentle peace stole over her, and she fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Justice**

The Hermit turned to the others, and after telling them what he had seen told them to send the horses back home, since they couldn't bring them along. Once everyone was back up in the tree, the old man opened a concealed door built into the very trunk of the tree, and bade them go down the passageway.

Leshalon went first, followed by Shymon, who seemed very eager to see what was ahead. Natalana was next, totally unafraid, while Krylon and Krymon stayed behind to help Mirshel, the Hermit. Last of all was Rylon, who was none too pleased about having to squeeze himself down a ladder and through a narrow tunnel, and quite vocal about it. For some minutes, his voice was the only sound, as everyone was concentrating on not stepping on the person in front of them in the dark.

Presently the group reached a larger space where the Hermit called a halt. When the torch he had brought along was lit, the Councilors found themselves in a veritable treasure-trove of weapons, armor and jewels, from all over Spirmaghia.

Sensing their amazement, Mirshel smiled and explained:

"These are some of the things I have collected over the years. I traveled the globe in my younger days, and brought items back from every place I visited. And now I place them at your disposal. Though I know you came armed, I believe the workmanship you will find here surpasses anything you may have ever known, and you are free to take whatever you choose."

The young Councilors stared at him for a moment, unable to believe he was serious. Then as it sunk in they scattered around the cavern, each looking for their favorite types of weapons and armor.

Shymon was attracted to the dark leather and sharp scimitars of the desert warriors of Autumnia, while Krylon looked at the crossbows and battle axes of the Invernian mountaineers. Krymon claimed for his own a twin bladed sword of the type preferred by the Etvian riders, and Natalana selected a pair of silver daggers that could be hidden in her back by a sheath whose intricate design denoted Springlash workmanship.

Leshalon felt lost among all these wonders, and he wandered around slowly, hoping something would leap out at him. He was fingering a longbow when he saw it: sitting in a dark corner as if it were of little value was a sword the young man knew instantly was the greatest treasure of the cavern. Reverently he picked it up and drew it from the deceptively simple sheath. A sudden gleam filled the cavern as its metal caught the light. The blade was of the purest steel, with a thread of diamantine gold weaving through it, and in the hilt was set a rainbow stone carved with an ancient seal.

"Its name is Justice," spoke Mirshel by his side. "It was the sword of the chief Centaur, last of an ancient race which has long since disappeared. It is long since it has been raised to fight for light and freedom, and it is time for it to gleam again. Bear it well!"

"A Centaur?" Natalana asked, disbelief clear on her face. "Those are just legends. Why pretend they made this sword?"

"Because they probably did." Krymon spoke up softly. "All legends have an element of truth in them, and Centaurs did exist, many ages ago. I know little about them, however. Perhaps you could tell us, sir?" Here he turned to the Hermit.

"Yes, I know many things about this ancient people, but it would take too much time to tell you now, and we have stayed here long enough. I will tell you on the way, if you wish."

"Where are we going?" asked Rylon, who had been silent since they entered the cavern, hence forgotten. "I have no objection to following my master wherever he chooses to go, but I prefer knowing what to expect along the way."

"I can tell you nothing about what to expect, nor about what our destination is, but I can tell you where I am heading next, and how. We are going to a secret meeting place in the western woods, where we will be joined by another member of our company. Because of the great number of Olivia's spies, we will stay underground, using the ancient tunnels. Now, enough jabbering!"

The old man walked out of the cavern bearing his torch, and the others followed quickly. The silence lasted for almost a mile, and Natalana was the first to break it, as she reminded the Hermit of his promise to speak of the Centaurs.

"I know only few things as facts, the rest cannot be verified, though their prevalence in the legends of all the peoples of Spirmaghia leads me to believe their truth. What I know for sure, thanks to a few of the oldest documents in the Palace, is that they were a people skilled in metal working, and the teachers of man in the art of sword making. Legend has it that they were the warriors of Spirgha-Maquía, created to fight any and all evil that raises its head, and they were gradually destroyed through all the wars that have taken place in our history. The last mention of their presence is found in the stories of the Frost War. Some think there are none left, others say that they will return when the need is great enough."

"Well, I definitely think they should show up now," Shymon spoke moodily. "Olivia is definitely the greatest evil ever, and anyone ready to destroy her and her beasts is my ally."

"Be careful of what you say" Leshalon warned. "The darkness fights against itself, and there are many who would destroy Olivia, but who are evil themselves. We are to be enemies of all evil, and not just this particular one."

As they were speaking, the Hermit had been leading them through a veritable underground fortress, heritage of a long forgotten war. The flickering light of their torches showed glimpses of long and winding corridors, of rooms full of weapons and supplies, of great stone doors and steep stairs.

All of a sudden, Krylon stopped, realizing where they were. "The lost Fortress of Grinev" he breathed. At those words, the others felt a thrill run through them, for this was a place of renown in the ancient legends. A great treasure was rumored to be hidden here, and obviously Olivia believed the rumors, for she had offered a reward to anyone who discovered the entrance. There had been no takers, for the western part of the Silverglade beyond the capital was greatly feared, partly because of the Hermit.

"Yes, the Fortress," Mirshel laughed. "Though I have explored very little of it, and have no idea where or what the treasure is. But come, we have still a ways to go before we can stop for the night. Best not to waste time talking."

So the trek continued, the young ones following their guide, stopping to rest occasionally, and forging a friendship that would last forever. Shymon and Natalana became especially close, joined by their love of mischief. The others soon learned to keep them to the front, for otherwise they were plagued by strange noises and unexpected tugs on garments and hair. Leshalon shook his head, but couldn't bring himself to scold them, for he knew they would have precious little to bring them joy in the coming weeks.

Finally, long after night had fallen on the forest overhead, they stopped in a small chamber, and taking some of the many rugs and blankets laying around, they settled down to sleep, Rylon offering to stand watch.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Beginnings**

The young girl woke up even before Rahana called, refreshed and ready to go. Taking up the pack she had prepared the night before, she pulled a dark green woolen cloak around her shoulders and slipped out the door.

Taking the most secret paths she knew, Silvana passed through the forest unseen, with Rahana on her heels. Arriving at the clearing, she was relieved to see Silverfleet waiting for them.

"Good morning, Princess," the unicorn said. "Has the night brought you counsel?"

"Yes, it has. We'll head towards the Kilavill at first, I believe others will meet us along the way. What to do afterwards I don't know, but I am determined to free my country and follow the Master, no matter what happens."

"How long will it take us to get there?" Rahana asked.

"If you were to take the road, it would take only two days," Silverfleet replied. "But it is more dangerous there, because of the Harilions, who have eyes the whole way. The forest is safer, though it will take longer."

"Then the sooner we start, the sooner we arrive." With that, the lioness stood and walked into the forest, heading west. The others soon caught up, and Silvana's quest had begun.

As the sun rose and filtered through the trees, the young girl felt her fears slip away replaced by a strange feeling of excitement. She was a princess, the sun was out even if it was cold, and she was moving into the unknown with every step, for the clearing they had started from was the farthest she had even been allowed to go in that direction.

"It's so strange," she marveled. "After all the things I've been told about the danger and evil of the forest to the west of the village, I was expecting this place to be dark and frightening. Instead it's filled with light and beauty, and so peaceful!"

"Do not trust in appearances," Silverfleet warned. "Though the beauty of this place can never be entirely destroyed, and no darkness can ever hide the light, there is a great difference between the stillness of peace and the silence of fear. This part of the forest has been relatively spared, but evil is here nonetheless."

Proof of these words was soon offered, as Rahana suddenly dropped into a defensive crouch, almost disappearing in the thick snow.

"Get down," she growled. "Harilions!"

Silvana mechanically obeyed, her heart frozen in fear. Olivia's warriors were known to be particularly cruel and heartless beings, and no one wanted to cross paths with them, especially in the woods.

Though she had rarely seen any, her village being so small and far from the capital it wasn't considered a threat, the image had been burned into her mind: incredibly tall and pale, with hair as black as pitch and cold, ice-blue eyes, they clearly had giant blood in them. They might have been beautiful, but the total absence of any expression other than cruelty made them horrible. No one knew when they had come into existence, but all knew that they served no one but their Snow Queen, and her they served with absolute devotion.

Several tense minutes passed as Rahana scented the breeze, trying to determine how many and how far away they were. Finally the lioness breathed a sigh of relief and rose from the ground.

"They're gone. They were headed south, and never came very near, but it's better to be safe."

As she rose to follow her companions, Silvana felt a momentary twinge of shame: she was a princess, on a quest to free her country, and the mere mention of her enemies was enough to send her scurrying for cover! Before she could dwell on it, however, the same assurance she had felt the night before in the clearing washed over her, and she knew the Master she served would give her courage when the time came, if she would trust Him.

This train of thought reminded her of her curiosity, and a question she wanted to ask.

"Silverfleet," she called, her breath leaving clouds of steam in the air. "Could you tell me why your kind stopped coming to Spirmaghia, and why all the legends have been repressed and hidden for so long?"

"It is a bitter tale for me to tell," he replied, "but you deserve to know, as it is part of your call to right it. However, as we have been walking most of the morning already, I suggest we take advantage of the small clearing I see ahead and rest for a moment first."

Rahana heartily agreed to this for, as she plaintively remarked, "all ths tracking was wearing her out." Silverfleet laughed, the clear, ringing laugh common to all horse-peoples, and told the lioness:

"You have been raised somewhat as a pet, it would seem, my lion friend, if half a day's walk through a few trees towards a river can wear you out!"

The lioness took offense at this, and a full-blown argument would have ensued, legendary creature or no, if Silvana had not intervened, recognizing the meaning of the glint in her friend's eye.

"There is no need for any arguing amongst us, let's save our anger for the enemy. As for the tracking, this is unfamiliar territory of all of us, and the cold makes it particularly hard, but we can all share in the task. After all, though I don't have your sense of smell or hearing, being raised with a lioness _does_ have some advantages, so I can help. Meanwhile, would you two please help me move some snow off this rock so I can sit down?"

They obligingly did so, and then sat down as close to the young girl as they could, to keep her warm. As they rested, Silvana was struck anew at the oddity of their company, and wondered exactly what kind of companions would be joining them. A strange sort of premonition had come over her when Spirgha-Maquía had told her others were going to help her, a feeling that one of them in particular was going to play a vital role in her future. The feeling scared her, for it reminded her of other times in the past when she had known things before they happened.

Shaking off the uneasiness, she looked at the unicorn, and found him watching her with a strange expression in his eyes. It was gone before she could read it, however and replaced by a playful gleam. Watching him look from the snow piled around them to the reclining lioness, her own face stretched into a grin, and with a lightning fast move, she grabbed a handful and dumped it on her friend, while he did the same with his wing. The startled lioness leaped into the air, showering snow over the two pranksters who doubled over with laughter at the reproving glare she sent them. She soon joined in, swatting at them good-naturedly.

Refreshed by their impromptu snow bath, the three of them finally dusted themselves off, each in their own manner, and set back out. Being reminded of his promise by the Princess, Silverfleet began his tale.


End file.
